Moonlight—the still waters of the ocean—

The deck of a ship—

Romance and beauty—

The great liner sailed near the northern coast of Africa. On the deck they had become engaged—the moonlight shone on them.

Dusk and bitter cold. A young woman paced up and down in the snow, waiting the coming of a train.

It was a small town in the Interior of Russia—of the Russia torn by wars and rebellions at home. A sorrow-stricken land.

The mystery, the romance of the night—the distant shores of Africa—seemed still upon her. She could almost feel the murmur of the water as it splashed against the boat.

And the next day—Algiers—the quaint streets—the mosques—flowers—and white robed Arabs.

Very quietly they had been married in the Cathedral which bears the name of a whole continent.

Notre Dame d'Afrique.

The sun had smiled as it shone on the city by the sea.

It grew colder.

A train came into sight on the vast field of snow.

On that train the man she loved and had married was coming to her.

That enchanted period in Algiers—He was returning—perhaps a wreck of his once splendid self—a cripple

War

It had shattered homes—brought skeletons—where once children laughed.

Brought famine—once birds had eaten crumbs.

War—

Horror—dismay

She waited

His eyes were aghast—eyes that had seen death—murder—horror—side by side—

There was no more laughter. He took Anna into his arms. Then the report was not true. He had not given his right arm.

Anna, he whispered, My brave Anna

I have been thinking of Algiers, she murmured. We planned to have sunshine—and roses—even among the snows of our country. But we faced blood—blood on the snows of our forests—

Ivan, it is bitter cold. Do not go out—into the night—

To Africa. The moon will be making golden streaks upon the water. A rose will be blooming in our garden—his eyes were vacant.

Then it was not his arm he had given for Russia—it was—

A cry pierced the cold air.

The weight of a dead body resounded.

I wonder what that was, Ivan mused—

Which is the shortest way to the Cathedral——

These Arab streets are so steep—